::11:09:08::

::: Super 8 Motel :::

The shadows are dense here,
ape-footed
that’s the way stucco hangs.
Heavy lead walls,
impenetrable by x-rays and God,
cubing floral muted colors.
Mauve…
to heavy to be lifted by the tongue,
falls from the gutthat’s
why it’s here.
Silenced, safe-d secrets,
concealed cheaply in
egg-shell coats.
Synthetic cover-ups don’t remove the
liquor sweated lust from mattresses.
The wrappings and amenities can’t disguise
the brown-bags living in-between,
if you can call it living.
The carpet burns
and roaches…
I know there’s a pit-bull in the toilet.

Written by: ~ Jeremiah D. Reeves